


Kwehst

by FireEye



Category: Final Fantasy V
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 19:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17107109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: Chocobo chicks can be all sorts of trouble.





	Kwehst

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chocographs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocographs/gifts).



The fuzzy bundle of feathers tucked into the front of his tunic warbled.  His eyebrows knit together, and he offered the woman self-conscious smile.  Mystified, maybe a little concerned, she hesitantly smiled back.

“Ah...” he said by way of apology, “Wanna see my baby chocobo?”

Polite laugh, exit stage left.

He couldn’t blame her.

His shirt shifted around.  Smiling wryly, Butz tugged his tunic away from his neck, and met the sky-blue eyes that blinked up at him.

“There’s no need to be jealous, you know?” he told the hopeful avian face.  “I’m traveling the world over; that doesn’t leave much room for picking up any other chicks.”

The chocobo trilled.

“Didn’t... I just feed you?”

With a theatric sigh, Butz dug a slice of carrot out of the pouch at his belt.  Fidgeting in excitement, the bird snapped open its mouth.  The sharp little beak snapped perilously close to shearing fingers.

“Hey!”  Butz mocked offence.  “Watch it!”

The chocobo trilled again, snapping open its mouth.  “You’re a spoiled bird, you know that?”

***

A desperate twitter startled him awake.  He found himself face-to-face with to a larger chocobo than he was currently accustomed to, craning its neck to peer down at him curiously.  The chick was chirping nervously at the crook of his shoulder, and the adult bird was warbling quietly to itself.

“It’s okay,” Butz said softly.  He didn’t know _which_ chocobo he was talking to, but he figured if one of them listened to him, the other might stand a chance at calming down as well.  With one hand, he reached for Boco’s huddled form; with the other, he calmly patted the beak that was currently leaning over them.  “It’s okay...”

Mindful of the still-tiny bundle of fuzz, Butz sat up, slowly.  Hay stuck in his hair, and the full grown chocobo raised its head for a nibble.  He couldn’t have imagined that it got less hair than hay.

Feeling the misunderstanding had likely passed on by, he gathered Boco onto his lap.  The baby bird was still agitated, and he ran his fingers through its puffed out feathers.

“It’s okay,” he repeated.  “He’s not gonna hurt you.”

Boco trilled uncertainly, and Butz smiled down at him.

“Or me.”

The chocobo leaned past them for a mouthful of hay.

***

Children of all ages crowded around him at the town well.  Every town, it was the same; they always wanted to know where travelers had been, where they were going, what their stories were.

He couldn’t blame them for their curiosity.  After all, he’d been much the same at their age.

Boco added an extra layer of curiosity. 

He wasn’t in any particular hurry, so he answered as many questions as he could.  More than one small hand reached out to touch Boco’s fluffy feathers before their youthful curiosity waned.

On his way back to the inn, a shout stopped him in his tracks.

“Hey!”  He turned around, looking for the source of the commotion, to find an middle aged man shuffling towards him, making an angry, accusatory gesture.  “Where did you get that bird?”

Boco shifted from foot to foot in the crook of his elbow.  Butz merely blinked.

“I found it out of its nest, out in the woods,” he recounted.  “North of a town I doubt you’ve ever heard of, some six hundred leagues from here.”

“Really?”

“Yes, _really_.  Is that a problem?”

The man stared him down, as though weighing whether he was telling the truth.  Then he rubbed the stubble along his chin.

“Not a lot of wild ones left in the world,” he said.  “I’ll give you a thousand crown gold for it.”

“No thanks.”

Butz started to turn, only to be pulled back by the insistent hand on his arm.

“It’ll be well cared for – I own a ranch.”

“Yeah.  But I said, ‘no.’”

“Maybe you oughta change your mind.  Do you even know how to raise a chocobo?”

Butz shrugged, and glanced down at Boco.  Boco glanced between them, and trilled up at Butz.

“I seem to be doing alright with it so far.”

***

The waning warmth of the bath was something of a luxury for a man who spent weeks at a time on the highways and back roads between civilization. 

Beside the bathtub proper, Boco splashed around in a heavy bowl filled with shallow water.  The air was filled with happy chirps and trills and warbles and the occasional spray of water.

Butz chuckled.

He sank into the tub to rinse the soap from his hair.

When he surfaced, he was shoved back under.

Struggling was instinctive, but pushing back wouldn’t get him anywhere.  His lungs burned as he braced himself, and pulled his assailant into the tub with him.

He was lucky.  Taken off guard, the stranger went face-first into the water, and Butz wriggled out of his grip, hauling himself over the edge of the tub.  He landed coughing on the floor, upending Boco’s empty birdbath bowl.

The splashing of his assailant didn’t register.  The distressed, muffled squawking disappearing down the hall did.  Dazed, he clambered to his feet to follow, making a grab for his trousers on the way out.

 

Stumbling into his pants as he turned the corner of the bathhouse, Butz glanced this way and that, struggling for his bearings.

Two men were running down the forested path leading out of the town, and he gave chase.  Even barefoot, he was faster, but they had a head start.  One was slower, encumbered by an angry, writhing sack.

Butz targeted him.  Snatching a rock off the road, he hurled it at the man, and he stumbled.  His friend whirled back around to cover him while he recovered, drawing his sword.

“Want something, _boy_?”

Butz scooped up another rock... and swallowed; he was winded, but so was the brigand. He also didn’t have a sword, and his knife was back with his belt and Boco’s carrots.

He hadn’t much cause to fight in his life, but his father had taught him a few tricks.

“Yeah.  I want my chocobo back.  He’s mine and he doesn’t know you and you’re scaring him.”

...mainly, he knew how to bluff and trust to luck.

“ _In the name of the Queen_ ,” and it was luck, it seemed, that was on his side, “what seems to be the trouble, here?”

Butz didn’t turn around.  One brigand ran immediately; the other held his own for all of six seconds before throwing the sack down and escaping into the brush.  A warrior rushed past them both, chasing after fleeing man.

Evidently, whoever was paying him wasn’t paying him _enough_.

Butz blinked, then dropped to the ground to free Boco.

“Nonono, it’s okay!” he sought to assure the squealing bundle of puffed up feathers.  Sharp, tiny talons dug into his arm and chest.  “It’s okay, it’s okay...”

***

The chocobo cooed softly.

“Oh, it’s so _adorable_!”

Same tavern, different night, different serving girl.  Butz smiled as she scritched the soft spot between Boco’s eyes.  The bird’s eyes drifted shut, and it puffed up its wings.

“What’s its name?”

“Boco.”

“Wherever did you get it?”

“Up north.”

The tavern owner called her away.  Butz sighed, and went back to picking over his dinner.

It wasn’t like he was the settling down type anyway.

Boco fluttered like its wings would carry its weight, and, taking a tumble off the table, landed in Butz’ lap.

***

The older chocobo angled its head for a better look at the tiny chick raising its head out of the hay, demanding to be fed.  Then duly ignored him to graze.  Boco chirruped demandingly, and the larger bird warbled.

The warrior from the town's edge marched into the stables, dressed in some kingdom or another’s livery.  He spared Butz half a glance and a polite, if perfunctory, smile as he saddled the bird.

Comfortably lounging in the his haystack-of-choice, Butz offered him a lazy-but-friendly smile in return, and a wave that he didn’t see.  Or maybe didn’t care if he did.

Mounting up, the man clicked to the bird, which gave a warble in reply.  They both disappeared into the darkening evening beyond the doors.

It seemed they’d have the barn all to themselves again.

Which wasn’t bad, it was just...

... _lonesome_.

“You know, I miss my father.”

Boco curled up next to his shoulder, and snapped at his hair.

“I bet you miss yours, too.”

Butz sighed.  Then, rolling his head to meet one bright blue eye, he smiled.

“So let’s stick together from now on, huh?”

**Author's Note:**

> Please accept this Butz & tiny!Boco adventure.


End file.
